42
by Le Redhead Merchant
Summary: Eyes piercing with an anger sharper than the axe in his hands, he shot them at the only man in the room, the only man left at the end of the day. The silver gleamed so brightly a perfect reflection of Frederick's face grimaced back.


"Frederick? Why does your face always look so grumpy?" Lissa had asked him.

"I'm afraid this is the only face I have, Milady," Frederick told her, half in truth.

_Those who are dead, are not dead_

_They're just living in my head,_

_And since I fell for that spell_

_I am living there as well._

He sat in the barracks, bitterly sharpening a silver axe, the metal _shrrk-_ing in protest with every swipe. His breathing was jagged and heavy. Eyes piercing with an anger sharper than the axe in his hands, he shot them at the only man in the room, the only man left at the end of the day. The silver gleamed so brightly, a perfect reflection of his face grimaced back.

The sun had long since sunken below Ylissetol's castle, inviting the moon to rise. He'd grown accustomed to busying himself with such tasks late into the night. He denied himself sleep until at least midnight; his mind proved too much of a burden to allow him rest.

As if to prove his own point, his hands twitched and disobeyed the commands he issued to them, causing the axe and sharpening tool to clatter to the floor. He rose to retrieve the axe. Another reflection in the axe caused him to jump. His heart pounded faster and a chill danced through his body. He shook it off, realizing the image he saw was only himself.

Trembling hands grasping the tool and axe, completely alone, he forced himself to face what he saw. He'd never realized how much he had grown to resemble his late father.

_Time is so short and I'm sure,_

_There must be something more._

The callouses on his hands were irreparable compared to how they were then. He vividly rembered the last conversation with his dad before he went off and got himself killed by Plegians.

"With that mindset, son, you'll never be an honorable warrior!" his father told him, voice raised in stress and frustration.

Frederick, young and naive, took it to heart. "You're the one who raised me! It must be your fault, then, that I'm such a damn awful kid!" His hands curled into fists.

"Do not talk to your father that way!" he barked back, tone desperate. His face flushed red with rage and shame at his son's behavior.

Frederick cowered below him, left speechless by the fury in his father's roar.

Said father glared at his son for a few heavy seconds, then sighed wearily. He opened the door and left Frederick's room to comfort his weeping wife in their kitchen.

Frederick snapped back to reality and gripped the axe even tighter. No matter how he tried, he couldn't make up for the last glance of sorrow he'd received from his father as he left the house for the last time. He couldn't bring his heartbroken mother back to life by winning every battle, or by performing every duty with perfection.

His life became little more than making up for past mistakes. It had become almost an obsession for him. He found that doing kindnesses for others structured his life. Once he entered knighthood, everything seemed to fall into place. His tediousness and perfectionist behavior suited Emmeryn, Chrom, and Lissa's needs well. Even they knew not of his troubling past, and he felt fine about it. They didn't need to know.

His present mistakes worried him, but not like the horrors he'd committed in his adolescent years. He'd successfully blocked out the need to weep at his troubles; after all, the other Shepherds were plagued with just as many haunting ghosts of their own. He refused to burden any of them with his.

_Those who are dead, are not dead_

_They're just living in my head,_

_Emmeryn. _The name resurfaced memories like an icicle to his heart. Not even the kindhearted, enigmatic tactician's plans managed to save her from the Mad King's death spiral. The most they could celebrate from that phyrric victory was the fact that the Fire Emblem rested safely in their hands, and Emmeryn's last words changed many hearts of Plegian warriors.

One particular Plegian general stood out to him, the one they fought after Emmeryn's untimely demise. Frederick took the time to learn that the man's name was Mustafa. Mustafa let go of the men that took Emmeryn's last words to heart at the probable cost of his and his family's lives.

_And since I fell for that spell_

_I am living there as well._

He always learned something whenever Emmeryn spoke to him. On the first day of his service to the Halidom of Ylisse, she spoke earth-shattering words to him.

"There is a difference between acting kind and being kind, Frederick. I hope you realize that one day," she murmured to him.

Those words guided his steps from that day. He found that she was unbelievably wise beyond her years, but never allowed it to cloud her visions of peace.

He made it his vision, yes, but that never curbed his cravings of wanting approval of his parents. Minds stressed too far from war, their response to a well-performed technique was always a distracted, half-hearted reply. They treated his training like a hobby, him like a knave with mere visions of knighthood. He knew they only wished for him to stay at home and remain safe.

What did they expect him to do? He couldn't just stay at home and lay about like a bum. That was neither helpful nor fulfilling. He felt awkward if he just stayed himself in the house and did chores like his mother, but he had to settle for the tasks since his parents disapproved of his dreams.

Eventually, though, he discarded all of that. He made a stretch for knighthood- one from which he never returned.

Their disapproving gripes soon became as dust in the wind as his determination took him through rigorous training. However, the war at the time requested another sweep of any capable men they could muster. His father was forced into fighting, Frederick destined never to gain full approval of his decision. He loved his parents, for certain, and never held it against them.

He only wished his dreams had taken him down a road they encouraged him to run down. In the end, the blame fell on him for pursuing his own selfish desires instead of fulfilling his duties as a son to his family.

His father died at war, and mother from a broken heart a month after hearing the news.

_Time is so short and I'm sure,_

_There must be something more._

At twenty-three years of age, he already had so many regrets. He hounded himself to let go, but many held fast to their host. In the end, he couldn't help but hold on to them, for maybe it was they that had kept him sane. Perhaps all the habits viewed as borderline insanity defined him, held him down.

He made it a point to think rationally, and that he did. However, some nights he tried to boil it down to one thing or another. What kept him going? What drove the madness? He didn't understand himself. He _couldn't_ understand.

_You thought you might be a ghost,_

_You thought you might be a ghost,_

_You didnt get to heaven but you made it close!_

_You didnt get to heaven but you made it close!_

He never shared a word of his musings with anyone, not even Chrom, who'd grown to be his best friend over the years. He truly thought he might've been driven insane, until... Until she came along. He never took the time to really talk with her until then. That's when he realized his fears weren't completely irrational.

"Frederick, what if... What if everything we do really isn't for anyone but ourselves? I mean, it always really comes down to that. We sacrifice for people we love, because we want them to be safe and happy. If we hated those people, we'd scoff and watch them die. We help the helpless because it makes us feel like heroes. Do you see, Frederick? Humans are such awful and beautiful creatures at the same time," the words just poured out of her mouth, uncharacteristic tears threatening to bubble over.

"We really are," came his simple, dumbfounded reply.

_You thought you might be a ghost,_

_You thought you might be a ghost._

He reprimanded himself for all the second-guessing and anxiety he felt, but felt better once he realized that his comrades would never have to bear the burdens of his past, as well. Besides, he was but one component of the Shepherds. They needed him, no doubt, but he highly doubted the team as a whole would miss him if they replaced him with a man of similar skill.

_You didnt get to heaven but you made it close!_

_You didnt get to heaven but you made it close, oh, oh, oh!_

He started at the sound of a firm, feminine voice at the barracks door.

"Oh, Frederick, what did I tell you about staying up so late? No matter how strong you are, you'll catch cold," she whispered gently.

She sounded horrifyingly like his mother. He gripped the axe and desperately scrambled to get a handle on his feelings.

_Those who are dead are not dead,_

_They're just living in my head... _

* * *

_This is my first songfic, so if something was weird with it, that's why. XD The song used here is 42 by Coldplay, and it is available on iTunes and other websites for anyone to download, but probably for a price. I strongly suggest you give it a listen, as well as Violet Hill, to grasp this piece fully._

_If you thought you saw the last of my past-constructing angst pieces with Glittering Silence, you were gravely wrong. XD I'll definitely be cranking out pieces like this when I've got writer's block. I both thank and apologize to those of you waiting for Ashera's Curse..._

_Anyway, Frederick is one of my favorites. Although his personality isn't a fandom favorite, I realized that I'm almost exactly like him, right down to the secret pyromaniac-ness. I've found him relatively easy to write, whereas many writers here have proclaimed their troubles with his character. The same goes for Owain, though I have yet to put up Owain works here._

_Ah, I'm getting a bit ahead of myself here. All in all, a great many thanks to you for reading! Leave a review or favorite if you will, all support is highly appreciated here. If you catch any glaring errors, please let me know so I can fix it as soon as possible! Thank you!_


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